


Lost and found

by tismabel



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst, Horror, M/M, Memory Loss, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 03:19:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17655071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tismabel/pseuds/tismabel
Summary: A short interlude in the wacky adventures of Brian (aka Quentin) and Nigel (aka Elliot aka The Monster).Brian escapes and Nigel is most eager to relocate his favorite chew toy.





	Lost and found

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place sometime during or after 4x01.

Brian wakes with a start, pulse racing and panic clamouring at the edges of his mind. He’s on the floor of a cheap motel room, his back to the door. He must have fallen asleep propped up against it. It's the best spot in the room to listen to any movement in the hallway outside.

His stomach feels heavy and hollow all at once. He hasn’t eaten properly in the days since he managed to get away from Nigel, but that doesn't stop it twisting in upon itself. His throat works convulsively, retching up nothing but the memory of the waitresses blood as it cooled and congealed on his skin.

Eventually, he manages to drag himself up the wall to get to his feet. He stumbles back into the motel room, where the air is close and stale. The sickly quality of light peeking past the closed blinds indicates its either evening or overcast. It’s not a nice room, far below the standard he’s accustomed to and in a seedy part of the city. But for now it's _safe_.

As he reaches for his phone his hands start to tremble again. He can’t stop thinking about how Nigel had expressed his displeasure with the waitress at the little diner off Bleecker street. Thinks about how Nigel will express his displeasure again when he finds him.

Sleep-scratchy eyes squint down at his phone as he scrolls through maps to plot where to go next. He sits down heavily on the end of the bed, futility overcoming him. How is he going to outsmart an evil, cosmically powerful creature whose idea of passing the time is flaying the skin of innocent bystanders.

Don’t think about it. Please God, just don’t let himself think about it...

There's a bang outside, then a sharply cut off scream. And Brian starts trembling, adrenaline coursing through him. He didn’t run far enough.

He needs to get out, no time for anything but escape. Edging the door open almost silently, Brian peers into the hallway, a line of identical motel room doors. It's quiet, but he's not fooled. His pulse is erratic and loud in his ears.

Brian forces himself to pull it together, keeping his breathing low and even as he steps out into the corridor and moves towards the rear fire escape.

There's another scream from the opposite direction, cut off sharp and wet.

He doesn’t know how many people have died. Lost count on day three at around eight or nine. Can’t think about how many since then. People who died because of him, because of him running. Doesn’t think about all the corpses left in their wake, the people who tried to help him or who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He takes in a short, juddering breath, and swallows the panic down once again.

The fire exit is just a few doors away and he hurries to reach it. The door's just in front of him and Brian almost stumbles at it, wrenching at the handle, twisting it down. But its stuck or locked and he swears silently about the pointlessness of a fire escape that doesn’t even fucking open!

He's trapped.

He twists to glance over his shoulder, panicked, desperate, and then throws his weight against the door. It doesn't budge. Brian hisses under his breath, his heartbeat louder and faster. He needs to _get out_.

"Oh, there you are."

It's all over. Brian goes cold.

He turns around.

Nigel is covered in blood. It’s not his obviously. Brian’s not sure Nigel is actually capable of bleeding. There's a smudge of it over his jaw, another on his brow. It’s so strangely at odds with the soft concern in his eyes.

He walks slowly towards Brian. "I've been looking for you everywhere. I couldn’t find you."

A half-hysterical laugh bubbles past Brian’s lips. He fumbles in his back pocket for the serrated kitchen knife he’d found in the motel room and swings it towards Nigel. “Stay back!” he says jabbing the knife in front of him.

But he knows it won’t make any damn difference. And sure enough Nigel doesn't stop moving. His hand, lightning fast, closes around the knife and he slips it free from Brian’s suddenly slack grip.

"Don't," Nigel says, drawing him closer. "Don't do that. You might cut yourself." He lays his hand over Brian’s neck, the grip firm and possessive. "I missed you so much. Why did you go?" He pitches his voice low and intimate, his other hand settling on Brian’s shoulder, bloody fingers splaying wide.

His dark eyes shine down with obsessive, murderous affection.

Brian doesn't speak, and Nigel doesn't seem to notice as he eases in closer. He’s apparently oblivious to Brian’s sudden quiescence, the way he lets himself by maneuvered, a prey animal playing dead.

When Nigel tilts Brian’s face up to him, he doesn't stop even when Brian eyes slide away from his.

Nigel kisses tenderly, lips soft and light. But there’s also an undercurrent of desperation. He’s holding himself back, restraining himself from simply devouring Brian whole.

When he draws away, he smiles shakily.

"You had me so worried," he whispers. His hand come up to frame Nigel’s face. "But it's okay. I won’t let you out of my site again. Just you and me together. I won’t let anyone come between us. They better think twice about even trying. Gonna be so happy."

Brian squeezes his eyes shut. Like he can wake himself up from this just by force of will. But when he opens them again Nigel is still there, face close enough that he can feel his breath.

Nigel moves in and licks the tears sliding down Brian’s cheek. A broken sob chokes Brian and then Nigel’s arms are around him, tucking him in close, fingers stroking through his hair.

"It’s alright. Don’t be upset. Just need a distraction." he says, kissing Brian’s temple. "I know! We should play a game. I know how much you love to play games."

 

** fin **


End file.
